


Freelance Good Guys: The Edge of Second Chances

by TheGreys (alienjpeg)



Series: Looming Gaia [37]
Category: Looming Gaia
Genre: Adventure, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Drama, Fantasy, Friendship, M/M, Magic, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:01:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29213085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienjpeg/pseuds/TheGreys
Summary: Drifter’s Hollow has a vampire problem. The villagers want nothing to do with these vile creatures, but this matter hits too close to home for Evan. He’s determined to find compromise as his people push back.
Series: Looming Gaia [37]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/833844
Comments: 6
Kudos: 4





	1. Unexpected Visitor

**Author's Note:**

> For concept art, discussions, memes and more, check out the Looming Gaia blog here: https://loominggaia.tumblr.com/post/175087795478/looming-gaia-masterpost
> 
> This story is part of the Freelance Good Guys series. I recommend you at least read “Monster by Moonlight”, “The Aldfog Mystery”, and “Eat Your Heart Out” first or this one won’t make much sense. As always, please heed the tags for content warnings. Enjoy!

**[CHAPTER 1: UNEXPECTED VISITOR]**

_SUMMER, 6008_

It was a warm summer night in Drifter’s Hollow. The crickets had finally gone to sleep, leaving the village in silence. The sky was still dark and it was too early for the birds, but it was never too early for Dr. Che. He rose well before the sun, crawled out of his tent, and made coffee over a small fire.

Sleep was an illness, as far as the doctor was concerned. Every minute he spent lying around like a corpse was just wasted time. What if someone should need him? Or gods forbid, what if they dropped dead simply because he was not there to help? Worries like these kept the coffee flowing through his veins from before sunrise to after sunset.

He took his cup with him to the clinic, a simple structure of wood and thatch. The structure was barely more than a façade. The doctor’s true workspace was in the basement, where he stored all of his medical supplies. His hooves creaked all the way down the wooden steps until he arrived at a door made of iron bars. Dr. Che unlocked the door and stepped inside his supply room. It was time to start laying out bedrolls and getting things ready for patients in the hut above.

He made it two paces into the room before his coffee cup shattered on the floor. He dropped it with a loud gasp, face flushing white. Something was missing! But how was that possible? There was only one key to this room, and it never left the cord around his neck.

Dr. Che scrambled back up the stairs. He sprinted across the village, down the south road that led to the Freelance Good Guys’ compound. He did not stop running until his hooves met Evan’s porch, and he was completely out of breath as he banged on the front door.

“Cap…Captain…! Need help! Please!” he wheezed, doubling over to catch his breath. He slapped the wood repeatedly until finally, the door creaked open and he realized he was slapping Captain Evan Atlas on the chest. He quickly drew his hand back and cried, “Captain, there is big problem! Is very bad!”

Still dressed down in his pajamas, Evan was already reaching for an iron cudgel stashed somewhere behind the door. “What is it?” he asked groggily.

Dr. Che gestured wildly as he explained, “A thief break into the clinic last night! All blood donations—gone! I cannot work without supply! Please, you must find out who steal the blood!”

Evan jolted upright with alarm. “A thief? How did they get in? We installed that iron door and everything!”

“I know, I know! Makes no sense!” said the doctor. He grabbed the key on the end of his necklace and gave it a shake. “I have only key! Stays with me, even when I sleep! And I not sleep much!”

Evan leaned against the doorway as he began slipping on his boots. “I’ll take a look. What else did they take?”

“Er, I not sure! Nothing, I think! Just blood, but why? Who need blood except doctor?” Dr. Che’s tone grew more harried with each word, wringing his hands anxiously before him.

With cudgel in hand, Evan followed the doctor back to his clinic. He expected the place to be ransacked, but it looked just the same as ever. The top floor hut was empty, for no patients had arrived yet, and the basement was clean and orderly as always.

The village held a local blood drive recently to supply the clinic. The bottom shelf should have been stocked with jars of treated blood. But there was only a blank space with no evidence. Not a hair that Evan’s eyes could see, not even a footprint or a finger smudge anywhere in the basement.

Evan hummed, scratching his chin in thought. “Hmm…This is quite strange indeed. Usually when something goes missing around here, I just turn Mr. Itchy upside-down and it magically shows up again…” His gaze travelled over the scene of the crime once more. “But there’s no way he could be responsible for this. Whoever came through here, they were no ordinary burglar. Have you treated any new patients recently? Anyone who seemed odd or sketchy to you?”

The doctor shook his head and replied, “No, no. I treat only village since fire! This is shocking to me! Why anyone want blood except for transfusion? If need transfusion, I give! No need to steal!”

“Right,” mumbled Evan, furrowing his brow in thought. After a moment, he said, “I’m going to ask around for clues. Let me know if anyone strange shows up, okay?”

“Yes, thank you! Thank you very much! Please hurry!” the satyr pleaded. Evan shot him a nod and left the clinic.

Evan pondered this curious case as he walked down the main road. He could see only the faintest glow of daylight on the horizon, stars still twinkling above. He wondered what kind of person would want jars of blood. What kind of person could get into that storage room without a key?

Whoever it was, they probably had a decent grasp on magic, meaning they were most likely fae. How many fae lived in Drifter’s Hollow? After the fire, not many at all. He counted all the fae he knew on his fingers. There was Jeimos, Linde, Skel, Gwyneth, Mr. Ocean, and…

The captain stopped in his tracks. No, he thought. It couldn’t be. It didn’t make sense! Except when he really thought about it, it actually made perfect sense. The bloodthirst, the magical stealth, the nocturnal activity—all of these things were signs of vampirism.

The realization hit Evan like a brick. “ _Zeffer_!” he hissed, slapping a hand over his gaping mouth. Could it be? Could his long-lost friend be lurking around the Hollow? Though it was against his crew’s wishes, Evan _had_ told Zeffer the location of Drifter’s Hollow the last time they met in Aldfog. He just never expected him to actually make it here, not before he was slaughtered on his ridiculous fool’s quest.

Perhaps he was jumping to conclusions. There was certainly some vampire activity in the Hollow, but Evan had no evidence to suggest it was Zeffer specifically. After all, Zeffer told him he wouldn’t return until he cut out the Dusks’ hearts. If he succeeded, then he’d be cured, and what would a non-vampire be stealing blood for?

He had to approach the situation with the utmost care. If it was indeed Zeffer, the last thing he wanted was for him to be slain by his overzealous crew. But if it was some other vampire, they should be dealt with swiftly and mercilessly. After what Evan went through with the Dusk clan, he wasn’t taking chances. The thought of any one of his friends being dragged off to some filthy blood-dungeon made his stomach churn.

Evan changed his course and started running towards the compound. He arrived at the well plaza, where most of the mercenaries had set up their tents. The plaza was silent and everyone was surely asleep. All except for Lukas, Evan knew well, who had never slept through the night for as long as he’d known him. Naturally he had become their night watchman, and tonight he had decided to post himself atop a great fallen tree.

He was fully suited in his leather armor, with a bow by his side and a quiver on his back. Though he should have been watching for danger, his attention was focused more on the notepad in his hand, where he was writing or possibly sketching something.

He quickly closed the pad when he heard Evan approaching, moving cantankerously with his false leg. “Lukas!” the captain hissed, trying not to wake anyone, “Come down here for a second! Quickly!”

Alarmed, Lukas tucked the notepad away in his back pocket and jumped down from the log to meet him. “What’s wrong?” he asked, but Evan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he beckoned Lukas to follow with a curl of his finger, leading him a good distance away from the plaza.

Once the others were out of earshot, Evan whispered, “We, uh… _may_ have a vampire in the Hollow.”

Lukas’ eyebrows arched high. “Vampire? Where? W-why do you think that?” he stammered.

Evan didn’t even know where to begin. He hesitated, then replied, “Che just told me all the blood donations were stolen from the clinic last night. I…I think I might know who’s responsible, but—”

Before he could even finish his sentence, Lukas blurted, “Damn it, Evan! I told you back in Aldfog! You should’ve never given that guy our coordinates! What were you thinking?”

“We don’t know for sure it’s him!” Evan snapped back. “Look, I don’t want to cause a panic. If it _is_ Zeffer, we need to track him down and confront him. But if it’s not, we better make damn sure that’s the case before we end this. We have to work quickly before people start going missing.”

Lukas let out a long-suffering sigh, scrubbing his thumb and index finger against his eyes. “What’s your plan?” he groaned.

“I, er…I don’t know yet. That’s why I came to you,” admitted Evan, swiping at his neck.

“Who else knows about this?”

“No one yet. We have to go about this carefully. I don’t want the villagers to start swinging first and asking questions later. That’s not going to end well for anyone.”

Lukas nodded, letting out a soft noise of acknowledgement. He considered their predicament for a long moment. Then he said, “I think I know what to do. We’ll tell them vampires hate garlic.”

Evan quirked an eyebrow. “Vampires _do_ hate garlic,” he said.

Lukas replied with a quick shake of his head, “No, I mean, we’ll say it wards them off. That way they’ll keep their eyes peeled, but they won’t feel helpless. It’ll keep the chaos under control while we track this thing down.”

The captain’s eyes seemed to brighten. “Lukas, you’re a genius,” he said, giving the man’s shoulders a squeeze. “Start spreading the word then. I’ll call a meeting with the crew.”

With that, the mercenaries split in opposite directions—Lukas towards the village and Evan towards the plaza. Once he got everyone roused and gathered outside, he explained that there was a vampire in Drifter’s Hollow, but that this vampire may or may not be a friend. “He’s an elf named Zeffer Vengelor,” he explained. “He has straight, white hair that’s grown passed his shoulders. If he’s using his guise, the tone of his skin will be similar to Alaine’s, and his eyes will be hazel. Otherwise, he’ll look about how you’d expect.”

“What? Like a nasty old corpse?” queried Glenvar.

Evan sighed, “For lack of a better description, yes…”

Alaine asked, “And what do you want us to do if we find him?”

“Whatever you do, just don’t hurt him!” Evan answered quickly. “Calmly approach him and tell him you’re a friend of Evan Atlas. Then bring him to me and I’ll take it from there.”

“But then what will _you_ do with him?” asked Jeimos, wringing their hands anxiously.

Once again, Evan wasn’t sure how to answer. He stood before them in his pajamas, holding a cudgel in his hand, probably looking even more foolish than he sounded when he replied, “I’ll just, uh…Well, don’t worry yourselves about that. Just leave all that to me.”

“Captain,” Javaan began cautiously, “you…haven’t thought this through, have you?”

“Of course I have! I’ve been thinking of this moment non-stop since that contract in Aldfog!” Evan snapped. “But I’m not getting my hopes up, and neither should you. After all, it may not be him in the first place. If our vampire doesn’t match his description, I want you to put them down like a dog, understand?”

The crew exchanged wary looks with one another. No one wanted to speak their minds for fear of hurting their friend’s feelings. All except Skel, who couldn’t care less either way and blurted, “Captain Atlas, you do realize there are a number of fae living in this village, correct? And you also realize that vampirism is a devastating disease, spread only among fae, which has no cure beyond _killing_ someone? What I’m trying to say here is: do we really want a vampire gallivanting in our midst?”

Evan’s brow wrinkled in offense. “Zeffer’s a friend, Skel. He’s not going to hurt us,” he said flatly.

“You don’t know that,” said Linde. “He knows you, but he doesn’t know us. What if he bites one of us before we can catch him? If one of us gets that disease, it’s over! Either we’ll have to die, or he will. This isn’t something we can afford to risk, Evan.”

Murmured agreements spread around her. Their betrayal was creeping up Evan’s back like a spider. He splayed his fingers before him and tried to calm their fears, said, “There is no risk! Everything will be fine if we just stick to the plan!”

Skel added, “There is _always_ a risk with vampirism! With all due respect, I don’t think you understand the severity of this disease. It’s not like the flu, or even like lycanthropy…” He tossed a hand towards Evan. “Call me a hypochondriac, germaphobe, worry wart or what have you, but I know diseases and vampirism is the most wretched of all! Do you know what heinous crimes against nature those people have to commit every day just to survive?”

Evan fought the urge to roll his eyes, speaking through his teeth when he replied, “I spent a week in a vampiric blood-dungeon, so yes, I’m well aware of their ways. But Zeffer isn’t like the rest of them! Not at all! You guys will just have to trust me on this.”

His crew regarded him with doubtful stares and mutterings. Clearly none of them were convinced. Still, they obeyed his wishes and began suiting up in their armor. The sun was just starting to rise, first notes of birdsong ringing through the air.

Gwyneth woke up to open her market, only to find every villager in the Hollow lined up in front of it. They all wanted garlic, and it was then that she learned about the vampire loose in the Hollow. “The mercs say vampires are afraid of garlic!” they told her. “They hate it! Won’t even come near it!”

By that afternoon, strands of garlic were strung up inside every tent. The villagers crushed it and rubbed the pungent mash on trees, rocks, and all over their own persons. The whole village had become powerfully aromatic within a matter of hours.

Meanwhile, the mercenaries combed the area for clues. Even the most observant of them were struggling, for their target had no odor to follow and left no trace of their presence behind. Evan mentioned that vampires slept during the day, so there had to be a campsite somewhere nearby. His crew poked through the tall grass, searched behind crags and boulders, but they saw no sign of anyone they didn’t recognize.

A full day’s search turned up nothing. Still, there was no telling what the night would bring. Evan approached Lukas just as the sun was falling. He clapped a hand on his shoulder and began, “I have a favor to ask…”

“What now?” sighed Lukas.

And Evan said, “Since you won’t be sleeping anyway, do you think you could watch the main road tonight? Question anyone who passes through.”

With no other option, Lukas did as he was asked. He donned a dark green cloak over his armor and posted himself high atop the charred remains of a tree, all overgrown with plants. From there, no one could possibly sneak past him.

*

Zeffer woke up in a cave. The air was musty and polluted with fox dander, but he didn’t have to breathe it anyway. He looked out through the little opening to the outside, far too small for any man or elf to slip through, and noticed the sun had gone down.

“Lilian, wake up,” he whispered, giving her a nudge. The elfenne spent the day sleeping beside him. She stirred with a little groan and tried to stand up, only to hit her head on the top of the cave. Quarters were cramped, to say the least, especially with their cartload of goods taking up half of the space.

Zeffer spent the previous night scouting the village, blending in with a crowd of other travelers and migrants passing through. He hadn’t found Evan yet, but he checked his map ten times over and he was certain he had the right coordinates. His old friend had to be somewhere around here.

He and Lilian destroyed their little cart, burned its remains, and turned their horse loose before settling into this fox den at the base of a great hill. The fox, unfortunately, had to be evicted. Zeffer reached for one of the many jars of blood he’d stolen from the village clinic. He heard mumblings of a blood drive the previous night and couldn’t pass up the opportunity. Whatever would spare him from having to kill someone was the best option, as far as he was concerned.

He gulped down the entire contents of a jar, tasting the tang of a strange preservative. It was not like the languidizer that vampires traditionally used to preserve blood. It was made from something else, some mix of salts and powders that were foreign to him. He saw the village doctor meandering around outside the clinic. He was a satyr, which surprised Zeffer, and he could only assume this doctor was experienced in primitive forest-medicine.

This place wasn’t at all what Zeffer imagined when Evan described it to him. Though the burned and fallen trees hadn’t gone unnoticed, and Zeffer could clearly see something bad happened to this place recently. It didn’t surprise him that a backwoods satyr was the best doctor they had. It only made the clinic easier to steal from.

The method he used to steal the blood was the same he used to exit the cave. Zeffer gathered his clothes and pushed them outside. Then, he transformed into a bat with a puff of smoke. His pajamas were left behind as the bat flew out of the cave and transformed back into an elf. Lilian followed suit as he pulled his clothes on, topping off his outfit with a black cloak. He pulled a similar cloak over Lilian, then the two continued their search for Evan.

Perhaps they could have asked around for him. But after stealing the blood and finding garlic smeared all over the village afterwards, Zeffer’s paranoia kept his head down and his lips shut. He did not want anyone to see his face until he knew for sure he had an ally here. The villagers were already on to him, and it was clear they wanted him gone.

He didn’t intend to stay anyway. If he could just get them to accept Lilian, that was good enough for him. Finally, the guilt of his horrid deeds would be absolved, then he could end his mission. As much as this village clearly hated vampires, their hate wasn’t half as strong as Zeffer’s.

He and Lilian made their way from the outskirts to the village proper. They stepped onto a narrow dirt trail, which widened into a road all grooved with wagon tracks. The other day they loitered around the market for hours, looking for Evan. But there was another side to the village, a little cluster of buildings near a lake that they hadn’t explored yet. That’s where they would go tonight.

Or not, for a voice stopped them in their tracks.

“Hey! What are you doing out at this hour? Identify yourself!” the voice demanded. Lilian raised her hands with a gasp while Zeffer reached for the crossbow under his cloak. Before he could load a bolt, the voice added, “Drop the weapon or I’ll shoot!”

Zeffer froze, red eyes darting around in the darkness. With his nightvision, he spotted a cloaked figure perched in a tangle of growth atop a tree. Male, probably, judging by his voice. He already had a bow fully drawn and an arrow aimed at Zeffer’s head. “Drop it, now! Last warning!” the figure told him, and the vampire had no choice but to comply. He set the crossbow on the ground and raised his hands above his head.

“Identify yourself,” the figure demanded.

“You first,” said Zeffer.

The figure replied flatly, “Lukas, Freelance Good Guy. I’m not joking, pal, I’ll fill you both with arrows if you don’t—”

“Wait,” Zeffer interrupted, lifting his head, “you’re with the Freelance Good Guys? I…I think I know you. We met once before, didn’t we?”

Lukas paused, lowering his bow ever so slightly. “You tell me,” he said.

“Back in Aldfog. I think it was about two years ago,” explained Zeffer, choosing his words carefully. “You were on a mission with Captain Atlas and that Odazi boy—I forgot his name. You were looking for missing townsfolk?”

Lukas’ eyes rounded. “Oh, shit,” he gasped, lowering his bow to his knees. “It really _is_ you! Zeffer, is it?”

“Yes! It’s me, Zeffer Vengelor!” the vampire beamed. He tugged his hood away, exposing his head of long, white hair. The top portion was pulled back in a ponytail. His skin was bronze just as Evan described, hidden behind his magical guise.

He continued, “I’m looking for Evan. Please, will you tell me where to find him?”

He recoiled with surprise when Lukas said, “No, I won’t,” and raised his nocked bow again. “I want you to leave. You’re not welcome here.”

Furrowing his brow, Zeffer replied, “That’s not what I was told.”

“I don’t care who told you what,” snapped Lukas. “ _I’m_ telling you to get the fuck out of here! And if I see your face again, I’ll put an arrow in it. Understand?”

Zeffer’s jaw dropped. He looked at Lilian in disbelief, who looked back at him with fear in her eyes. He turned back to Lukas and asked, “Why are you being this way? We parted on good terms, or so I thought! What have I ever done to wrong you?”

“Nothing yet,” said Lukas. “Listen, this isn’t about anything personal. But you are what you are, this is my village, and these are my people. You’re lucky I’m even giving you a warning. I don’t want to kill you, but I will if I have to. Now get lost. This is your last chance.”

“Evan wants to see me!” argued Zeffer.

Lukas paused, then told him, “No, he doesn’t. He changed his mind after you stole all that blood from the clinic. He told me so.”

“That’s a bald-faced lie,” Zeffer growled.

Lukas fired a warning shot. The vampires jumped back and watched an arrow pierce the ground at their feet. By the time they looked back at Lukas, he had another arrow nocked and ready. “ _Leave_ ,” the watchman growled.

“Fine! I will! I never intended to stay anyway,” said Zeffer. He touched Lilian’s back and continued, “I only came here because this girl needs help. That’s what you Good Guys do, right? Help people? I rescued her from a clan near Sodergen. She has no family and nothing to her name. She’s…she’s not well. They did unspeakable things to her for years.”

“What are you asking me to do?” queried Lukas.

“I’m asking you to let her stay,” Zeffer answered, tugging the hood away from Lilian’s head. Her black hair fell long and loose around her shoulders, in desperate need of a wash. Her face was smeared with dirt. The vampire went on, “Please, she can’t survive by herself. If you just take her in and promise to help her, I’ll turn around right now and walk away peacefully. You have my word.”

Lukas scanned Lilian up and down with a wary look. “Is she a vampire?”

“No! Er, she used to be, but she’s been cured. She’s totally harmless, I promise you,” Zeffer told him earnestly, wearing a pleading look on his artificial face.

A long, tense silence passed between the trio. Lilian awaited Lukas’ decision with bated breath, digging her nails into the palms of her hands. At last, Lukas bobbed his arrow and said to Zeffer, “We have a deal. Now start walking, and don’t ever come back.”

Zeffer backed away from Lilian with a nod, hands raised. He left his crossbow on the ground, turned around and began walking down the road. Once he disappeared into the darkness, Lukas swiftly clambered down the vines of his perch. He approached Lilian and said, “I’m going to check you for weapons, okay? Just hold still.”

Lilian obeyed, stiff and silent as he patted her down. Lukas kept glancing around at the dark forest as he did so. He pulled her cloak back and found nothing hiding inside. She was wearing a simple knee-length dress and flat leather shoes.

Once he finished, Lukas picked up the crossbow in one hand and took the elfenne’s hand in the other. “Come on, I’ll take you to the captain. He’ll decide what to do from here,” he said.

“Okay. Thank you, mister,” she said softly, voice quivering with chill, fear, or perhaps a combination of the two. Lukas knew all fae were bound by their words, and he did not doubt Zeffer’s for a moment. He believed him about Lilian, and he could tell by her ratty appearance and meek demeanor that she was no threat to the village.

Lukas glanced over at her as they walked together towards the compound. He expected her to have questions, to say something, _anything_. But she remained silent, shuffling onward with her gaze fixed to the ground. He cleared his throat and decided to break the awkward silence.

“So,” he began, “you were a vampire, huh? You’re not still…you know…contagious, are you?”

“No, sir,” she said, still refusing to meet his gaze. “Zeffy—um, I mean, Mr. Vengelor cured me. I don’t drink blood anymore. It makes me throw up.”

“How did he cure you? Don’t you need a sacrifice or something?”

“I…um…well, he…” Lilian began, suddenly struggling to speak. “Mr. Dusk, um, he…he died. Zef—Mr. Vengelor made me dri—um, I drank the blood, and…and I…” Her voice began to crack, moisture welling in her eyes.

She was just a moment from breaking down into tears, so Lukas squeezed her hand and stopped her, “Alright, you can stop there. Sorry, that was…probably not a good question. We’ll discuss all this later when you meet the captain. Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

Wiping her eyes, Lilian sniffled, “I’m a little hungry.”

Lukas stopped and reached into the pouch hanging off his belt. “Here,” he said, passing her a round biscuit. It was a hard disc of pressed oats, raisins, and sugar. Such a snack travelled well and carried him through many long nights on watch.

Lilian took it with a grateful bow. “Thank you so much!” she said, and began chewing through it without a moment’s hesitation. Lukas could tell she hadn’t eaten a decent meal for quite some time. Her fingers looked as delicate as a bird’s toes.

The two continued on their path. Little did they know, Zeffer was still there, watching from the shadows. He crouched down and concealed himself in the tall grass at the side of the road. He could have easily called his mission there, walked away and antagonized some patrolman into killing him. But his heart yearned for Evan, yearned to simply see his face one last time, and then he could die a happy elfann.

He was already so close. The only obstacle standing in his way was Lukas, and he could be dealt with easily enough. Why give up now? The vampire still had one trick up his sleeve. He transformed into a bat, leaving his cloak and everything else in a pile on the ground. He flapped his way over to Lilian and landed on her shoulder, opposite of Lukas.

She jumped with a start and turned to face him. He made a tiny squeak back at her before crawling into her cloak. She had no fear, knew it was him in an instant, for his white fur made him distinct from most ordinary bats.

Lukas noticed her reacting to something and asked, “Something wrong?”

“No, I-I’m fine,” she stuttered, and continued casually down the path.

*

The sun finally set upon this long summer day. It was later than it seemed, but there was no way Evan could imagine himself turning in yet. His mind was racing too fast with worries and possibilities. What would he say if he reunited with Zeffer? What if one of the villagers was kidnapped and fed upon on his watch?

He couldn’t sleep through it, so he picked up a book and made himself comfortable in the sitting room. He found Isaac already there, lying on the floor with a book of his own. “You couldn’t sleep either, huh?” queried Evan.

Isaac shook his head and replied, “I wanna be ready in case the vampire snags somebody.”

“Not a bad plan,” Evan sighed, then decided to change the subject. “What are you reading there?”

“ _Raiders of Rockreach,_ issue three. Connor let me borrow it. He told me this series was the best thing ever, but I gotta be honest…it’s not very good.”

Evan raised his eyebrows, surprised by his reaction. “You don’t like it? I loved those books when I was your age! What’s wrong with it?”

Isaac shrugged and told him, “It’s just a bunch of murder and rape and stuff. The characters are all terrible people! Like, am I supposed to be on their side or what? Because I’m not!”

“Hmm. Well, the series is based on a real gang of criminals that roamed Evangeline Kingdom back in the old days,” Evan began thoughtfully. “They were an awful bunch, most certainly. But they were an _interesting_ bunch too, don’t you think?”

Isaac wrinkled his nose. “Not really,” he grumbled, closing the book.

Evan frowned. Clearing his throat, he said, “Huh, well…granted, I haven’t touched those books in twenty years, give or take. But when I was young, I used to look up to those men. I envied all the adventures they got to have, while I wasted away in my dull little farm town. They were strong and fearless! Every Evangelite boy wanted to be them.”

“Evan, they tied a girl to a pole, cut out her eyes and set her on fire!” said Isaac, looking at the man like he’d grown a third arm.

Evan recoiled. “What? I don’t remember that…”

“Right on the first page! Look!” Isaac opened the book and showed him the offending picture. The gruesome image caught Evan off-guard.

A strained look crossed the captain’s face when he said, “Oh! Gods, that’s awful! Strange that it never stood out to me back then...” He turned towards the front door, where Connor was sleeping in his tent just outside. “No wonder the kingdom’s been trying to censor these books. Now that I think about it, Evangelite culture was founded on violence and brutality. We blue folk just come out of the womb thirsting for blood, I suppose.”

“Not you though! You’re a pretty Good Guy,” argued Isaac.

Evan let out a sardonic little chuckle. “Son, if you only knew...”

Just then, something _tap-tap-tappa-tapped_ against the back door in a distinct rhythm. Evan set his book aside and rose to his feet, muttering, “That’s Lukas. I hope nothing bad happened…”

Isaac sprung up as well, swiping the cudgel as he followed him to the back door. “Careful,” he whispered, “it might be a vampire!”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” said Evan, opening the door.

Standing on the other side was a vampire.

Or so Evan thought, eyes rounding wide at the sight of the Dusk girl. But standing beside her was none other than Lukas, and Evan’s first instinct was to protect him from this horrible enchantress. He yanked the weapon from Isaac’s hand and shoved himself between Lukas and Lilian. Shielding Lukas with his body, he raised the cudgel at Lilian and growled, “Lukas, she’s a vampire! Get away from—”

“No, no, no, stop!” blurted Lukas, grabbing Evan’s brandishing arm. “Don’t hurt her! She’s not a vampire!”

Isaac pointed at her and said, “Yes, she is! She’s the lady who tried to kill me when I did that job in Sodergen! Don’t trust her, Luke, she’s crazy!”

Evan whipped his head towards the young mercenary, quirking his brow. “She what?” he asked. Lilian lowered herself to the ground and cowered, beginning to cry. Lukas looked at her, then at Isaac, then to his Captain, and then he didn’t know what to think anymore. He couldn’t tell Evan that he’d run into Zeffer. He had to navigate this conversation like a minefield.

“She _used_ to be a vampire,” Lukas told them, “but she’s not anymore. She’s cured, and as far as I can tell, harmless.”

“Lukas, I know this miserable wench! It was she who infected Zeffer! She’s a Dusk, she’s a cretin, she’s a killer!” roared Evan, refusing to lower his weapon.

Lukas didn’t know what to tell him. How could he convince Evan to trust him without confessing his treatment of Zeffer? It seemed he didn’t have to, for a white bat suddenly flew out of Lilian’s cape and disappeared in a puff of black smoke.

The mercenaries jumped back with a start. The smoke slowly dissipated, leaving an elf behind. He was naked from head to toe, symptomatic of vampirism with his mottled, gray skin and glowing red eyes that pierced the darkness.

The mace fell from Evan’s hand. “Zef?” he gasped, taking a cautious step closer. Without hesitation, Zeffer opened his arms and threw them around his old friend.

“Evan!” he nearly sobbed. Lukas looked on, dumbfounded, as his captain and the vampire shared a tight, joyful embrace.

The moment they parted, Evan pulled off his pajama top and wrapped it around his naked friend, stammering, “I-I thought you might be skulking around here! I can’t believe it! It’s—it’s really you!”

The shirt was so large, it covered Zeffer nearly down to his knees. The vampire began feeding his arms through the sleeves, buttoning up the middle. “I can’t believe I found you either!” he said breathlessly. “Evan, listen. Your friend here is right, Lilian’s been cured of her disease. She poses no threat to you or your people. In fact, the only reason I bothered to come here was for her sake. She really needs help, and you’re the only one I trust.”

“Excuse me, you want to help _her_?” Evan blurted, tipping his head towards the elfenne. “Zeffer, didn’t she turn you?”

“Yes, but…” the vampire sighed, trailing off. He rubbed at his weary face and said, “It’s a long, terrible story. But if you have the time, I’d be more than happy to share it with you.”

Evan placed a hand on his back, guiding him into the house. “Of course! Please, come in!” he said.

Zeffer shot a look towards Lilian and nodded, beckoning her to follow. She picked herself up off the ground and did so without question. Face burning hot with anger and shame, Lukas reluctantly trailed after them.

Evan led everyone to the sitting room. “Sorry, it’s a pigsty at the moment,” he absently apologized, tossing a book off one of the chairs. He gestured Zeffer and Lilian towards the two living chairs, while he, Lukas, and Isaac sat on the floor before them.

“Please,” Evan urged Zeffer, “say what you need to say, friend.”

The vampire took in a deep breath and began, “I managed to track down the Dusk clan. Lilian and Dario were the only ones left, living in a cabin on Sodergen road. Dario let me stay. He was desperate for hands, I guess.” He shook his head, looking Evan in the eyes when he said, “He lost his damn mind, Evan. The whole reason I hunted them down was to cut out Lilian’s heart and cure myself. I wanted to return to you as a mortal. But…”

He paused, gaze falling once more. “The way he treated Lilian, I…I couldn’t stand it. She wasn’t my enemy—she never was. Dario used her like a puppet her whole life, made her eat the consequences of his crimes, treated her worse than an animal. When the time came, I couldn’t make myself kill her. I caught Dario in a moment of weakness and I saw red. I couldn’t stop myself, I swear to you…”

“You killed him,” Evan said quietly, almost a question.

Zeffer nodded. “More than that. I cut out his vile, wretched heart and gave it to Lilian. I sacrificed my mortality for hers.”

“Zeffer! W- _why_?” blurted Evan.

The vampire let out an agitated kind of sigh and replied, “Because I couldn’t shoulder the guilt! What’s the point of living if I have to live as a monster? Call me a coward or a fool or whatever you want, you’d be right. But I’d rather be a dead coward than a living killer. After the misery I’ve seen this last quarter-century, I have enough ghosts haunting me. I can’t handle any more. I can’t even handle the ones I have.”

Evan’s brow sagged with concern. “What are you saying?” he asked.

“I’m saying I can’t stay,” Zeffer told him solemnly, regarding him with an apologetic frown. “Things like me have no place in this world. You don’t know what kind of hideous things I’ve had to do just to stay alive—or undead—but I’d like to think I’ve justified my existence a little more with every other vampire I’ve taken down. Restoring Lilian’s mortality,” he nodded at the elfenne, “that was the most righteous thing I’ve ever done. That alone put me at peace with my demons, and now I can finally rest. I just wanted to see you one last time before I go.”

“Are you listening to yourself?” exclaimed Evan, rising to his feet. He seized the vampire’s shoulders and gave him a shake. “No! You will not kill yourself, absolutely not!”

“You’re right,” said Zeffer, “because I _can’t_. You made me promise, remember? I need someone else to put me out of my misery. If you’ll honor my dying wish, I want that person to be you.”

Evan’s face flushed white. He cocked his head and shouted, “Zeffer, I—you can’t just—” He clawed at his hair, letting out a growl of frustration. “You’re speaking madness! I—okay, let’s all just calm down and discuss this rationally. You made it to the Hollow. Against all odds, you are sitting here before me, and I can’t tell you how overjoyed I am to see you.” His voice cracked slightly with tears. “I’ve been waiting, hoping, and praying for ages, just for this moment. So here it is, and now you want to rip it away from me? Please, have mercy! Don’t you know what that will do to me?”

Lukas and Isaac stared at the two, unblinking. Neither of them dared to say a word, enthralled by the drama unfolding before them.

Zeffer didn’t answer right away. He refused to meet Evan’s gaze when he mumbled, “Not everything is about you. I love you dearly, more than anyone or anything else in the world. But you haven’t seen what I’ve seen, and you haven’t suffered what I’ve suffered. I don’t even know where to begin, so I won’t. All you need to know is that I’m in so much pain, I can’t bear it anymore. If you loved me, you’d end my suffering.”

“There won’t _be_ any more suffering,” Evan told him. “You’re here now, Zef! You’re safe, you’re well, you’re with me! I’ll take care of you. I’ll do whatever it takes to give you anything you need, you have my word! Your pain won’t be forever because I won’t let it be!”

Shaking his head, Zeffer replied, “You’re not getting it. Let me explain it this way: as long as I exist, I have to feed. As long as I have to feed, I have to take blood from others. Now, who would be so generous as to become my personal feed-bag? No one, that’s who. It’s unreasonable to even ask. And as I live with all the guilt and disgust of drinking someone’s blood, I also live in fear of the day my supply runs out and I spiral into a bloodthirsty rage. My existence isn’t sustainable. It’s cruel to me, and it’s dangerous to everyone around me. I’m sorry, _amro_ , but this is for the best.”

Evan refused to hear it. He shook his head with a deep scowl on his face, pacing around the sitting room for a long moment. Finally, Isaac cleared his throat and peeped, “Um, I would totally volunteer my blood to you, Mr. Zeffer, but Lilian’s dad drank it once and almost died. I think there’s something wrong with me, so…sorry.”

“Mine is no good either,” muttered Evan, rubbing his chin in thought. Then he perked up, shooting a hopeful look at Lukas.

Lukas shut him down immediately, said, “No! Don’t even think about it, no way!”

“Lukas, please!” begged Evan.

But Lukas crossed his arms and exclaimed, “How can you even ask that of me? You’re awful quick to throw me under the horses for his sake!” He gestured to Zeffer. “In fact, you’re awful quick to compromise the safety of this entire village! Your friend here isn’t wrong, and you know it! He’s spoken nothing but reason since he got here. But in typical Atlas fashion, you’re butting your head against cold, hard logic because your heart has swallowed your brain! Stop and _think_ , why don’t you?”

Evan furrowed his brow at him. “You say I’m quick to take him in,” he began, pointing an accusatory finger, “but I’d say you’re rather quick to let him die! What on Gaia is wrong with you? A man speaks of suicide, and you’re _encouraging_ him?”

“Don’t you pull that bullshit with me! You know damn well he’s no ordinary man and these are no ordinary circumstances!” Lukas snapped back.

“He doesn’t want me here, Evan,” said Zeffer. His voice sounded tired, defeated. “No one does, and you can’t blame them for that. I saw the garlic everywhere. I know where I stand in this world. All I ask is that you honor my sacrifice by protecting Lilian. She can’t make it on her own, not after what Dario put her through.”

Suddenly exhausted, Evan stopped pacing and pressed his forehead against the wall, deliberating with himself for a long time. Finally, he decided, “I’m much too tired for this conversation. Zeffer, I want you to stay here with me for the night. Lukas, please watch over Lilian. I’ll call a meeting with the crew first thing in the morning and we can all figure out a solution together.”

There was no room for discussion, for Evan already disappeared through his bedroom door. Zeffer glanced at the others, then reluctantly followed him. Before he shut the door, he said quietly, “I never meant to cause all this trouble. I’m very sorry,” and then he was gone.

Lukas, Isaac, and Lilian were left in the awkward silence of the sitting room. Lukas stood up with a sigh and began digging through the closet. He tossed two blankets and a pillow on the dirty rug and told Lilian, “I guess you’re sleeping here tonight. Sorry about the accommodations, a couple of children live here.”

“Hey!” barked Isaac.

Lukas turned to him and said, “Go upstairs and get to bed. I don’t want to see hide nor hair of you until sunrise.”

“What? This is my house!” the young mercenary argued.

Lukas thrusted his finger towards the hallway, tilted his head and shot him a wide-eyed look. The look said more than words ever could. Isaac grumbled his way up the ladder to the attic. Lukas gestured to the blankets on the floor and said to Lilian, “Make yourself comfortable. We’ll find you some new clothes tomorrow; the crewwomen probably have a few things they can spare.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Lilian, offering a polite bow before crawling into her nest of blankets. Lukas swiped a book out of the shelf and took it with him to one of the chairs. There he remained for the rest of the night.

*

Evan called a meeting at dawn’s first light. The entire crew got up and slugged their way to the well plaza, some still dressed down in their pajamas. Zeffer concealed himself under his long cloak to protect him from the sun. He stood by Evan’s side, head down and obscured in shadow. All he saw was the ground, but he could feel the scrutiny of so many eyes boring into him.

Once everyone arrived, Evan announced, “Everyone, we found our vampire. This is Zeffer Vengelor. As some of you may know, he is a dear friend of mine, and he was the first to join my crew before I met any of you. Zeffer spent the last twenty-five years slaying vampires all across Noalen. He’s a good man with righteous intentions.”

“Didn’t he steal all the blood from the clinic?” blurted Javaan.

Evan waved his hand and replied, “Nevermind that. We can hold another drive and replace it easily enough. Now, Zeffer has come to us with a simple request. He wants us to see that Lilian, this nice girl here, is taken care of.”

He gestured to Lilian, standing at his other side, and went on, “Lilian was held captive by vampires for a very long time. She’s been through a lot and she needs our protection. Good Ladies, may I ask that you see to her until she gets on her feet?”

Alaine, Linde, and Elska replied in unison, accepting their task.

“Excellent, thank you,” Evan continued. “Zeffer, too, has been through the wringer with these vampires. He’s in quite a dark place and he needs our help. I would like to welcome him to join us here in Drifter’s Hollow, and I humbly ask that you open your arms to him as well.”

A round of murmurs spread over the group. Evan was hopeful at first, believing that once they saw Zeffer in person, their hearts would soften for him as his did. But he could already tell by their doubtful expressions that this wasn’t the case.

Jeimos was the first to speak up. “Excuse me, Mr. Atlas, but…this friend of yours, his disease is quite contagious, isn’t it?”

Before Evan could meander his way around an answer, Zeffer broke in flatly, “Yes. Should I bite another fae, they will contract vampirism. The only cure would be to remove my heart and suck the blood out.”

Evan looked at him in disbelief. Was he _trying_ to sabotage himself? The murmurs only grew louder and more harried, so Evan loudly tried to reassure them, “Guys, there’s nothing to worry about! It’s not going to happen. Zeffer would never bite any of you. He’s not some kind of animal, he’s a lovely and intelligent person.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s a wonderful lad,” added Skel. “But let’s not pretend his disease is anything to take lightly! There are—” Skel briefly paused to count heads behind him. “—four fae individuals on this crew, and even more living in the village. Perhaps this disease is no concern to the rest of you, but as a fae myself, I really don’t like the idea of catching this thing!”

Evan spoke slowly through his teeth, “It’s not. Going. To happen.”

“You can’t say that for sure,” Zeffer said casually. “Any vampire can go berserk if they’re hungry enough.”

“Zeffer!” hissed Evan, silently begging him to stop hurting his own case.

Zeffer continued, “The only way to prevent that from happening is to provide me with a steady, consistent supply of blood, and it can’t be animal blood. It has to come from people.” His eyes swept over the crowd of nervous mercenaries. “I don’t expect anyone to volunteer for this, and I’m not willing to feed by force. I’ll give you the math: A human replaces about two pints of blood each day. I need twice that to stay healthy. This means I need at least four dedicated volunteers in constant rotation.”

With a shrug, he finished, “If there’s no solution, then I’ll just be on my way. I won’t trouble your village ever again.”

“My blood is tainted by lycanthropy,” Evan quickly added. “Isaac’s is no good, and Mr. Ocean’s surely isn’t, with his fungus and all. I’m not sure about Glen’s either, given that rock in his heart. So, which of you will do the honorable thing? Javaan, Elska, you two alone could easily sustain him!”

Elska told him sternly, “Captain, you have no right to ask this of anyone. Blood is the source of all life! It is our power! It is a sacred thing, and you ask us to defile it so carelessly!” She pointed at Zeffer. “This creature must steal power from others because he has no power of his own. He is a thief. There is no honor in that, even if it is not his fault. If he cannot have honor, then he should not have life. I will not sacrifice my power to him.”

Her words were like a punch to Evan’s gut. He knew that there was no changing her mind. Once Elska made a decision, it was set in stone, so he shifted his hopeful gaze to Javaan. The other centaur swiped at his neck, anxiously shifting from hoof to hoof as he said, “Yeeeah, I’m not okay with someone feeding off me. I also really, _really_ hate needles, so…”

The outrage was plain on Evan’s face. “You two must be joking! Are you really so cowardly?”

“We are not cowardly,” insisted Elska. “ _You_ are unreasonable!”

“She’s right. This isn’t a very reasonable request,” said Linde. “Mr. Vengelor said he needs a steady supply. What if something happens to one of us? What if we die, or get sick, or we’re away on a contract? It would be a huge commitment for someone, not to mention the toll it would take on their health in the long run.”

Jeimos added, “The logistics of this are simply undoable. If we had a hundred-man army at our disposal, perhaps we could figure something out. But as it stands, allowing Mr. Vengelor to stay is just too great a risk, to both us and himself.”

Evan simply couldn’t accept it. He balled his fists, addressing the whole crew when he said, “Shame on you. Shame on the lot of you! We’ve tried nothing and you’re already quitting!”

“Don’t,” mumbled Zeffer, placing a hand on his arm. “I expected this. It’s over. Please, just let me go peacefully.”

“No! We’re not giving up on you, Zef!” Evan growled. He glared back at his crew and added, “Or at least _I’m_ not. The rest of you, get out of here! You’re dismissed!” He dismissed the group with an aggressive wave of his arm. Alaine beckoned Lilian before she left, and Lilian followed her away down the road.

Evan took Zeffer’s hand and led him the opposite direction, back towards the village. “We haven’t tried everything. Maybe Dr. Che has a cure for your disease.”

“Evan, come on,” the vampire sighed.

But Evan told him, “I know it’s a long shot, but this man is no ordinary doctor. He’s performed miracles before. Just humor me, will you?”

With nothing more to lose, Zeffer followed him to the clinic. It was much less busy than it used to be before the fire, occupied by two sick villagers groaning in their bedrolls. Evan saw Tojum tending them, helping one of the patients sip water from a bowl.

“Excuse me, nurse Tojum?” greeted Evan. “My friend here needs to see Dr. Che. It’s very important.”

“The doctor is busy now. Why not ask Tojum? Ye thinks Tojum knows nothings, just because Tojum kobold?” The nurse stood up and waddled towards Zeffer on her uneven legs. “Lets Tojum takes a look and—”

She pulled Zeffer’s hood away, then drew back with a shriek. Zeffer stared down at her with his glowing red eyes and imposing, ghoulish face. Black veins spread over his mottled skin like cracks in a clay pot. He was well aware that he looked like the walking dead, and he quickly replaced his hood, shrinking in embarrassment.

“Why ye brings him here? Ye’s too late, he’s already deads! Digs hole and buries him!” the kobold wailed.

Evan raised his palms and assured her, “He’s not dead! He has a terrible disease, and no offense, but you are certainly not qualified to handle it! Please, will you fetch the doctor for us?”

Tojum did as she was asked, frantically muttering her way down the stairs to the basement. She returned a minute later with Dr. Che in tow. He was clad in his usual white coat and glasses, long hair and beard both restrained by ties.

Tojum pointed at Zeffer and told the doctor, “Ye needs to sees him fastly! He looks like corpses drau digs up in Wheatfield, brings back to life with horrible magics!”

Dr. Che looked Evan up and down. “The captain looks fine to me. Very strong, very healthy!” he observed.

Gesturing to Zeffer, Evan said, “Not me, doctor. It’s my friend here. He has, uh…well, see for yourself. Zef?”

He nodded his head, urging Zeffer to remove his hood again. The vampire did so with a reluctant sigh. Dr. Che’s eyes grew wide. He cried out with shock and sprung back a full ten paces on his goat-like hooves, slamming into the thatch wall behind him.

“Gah! No, no, no, bad! This very bad! Mr. Atlas, I-I am afraid I cannot fix. No doctor on Gaia can fix! Your friend has the vampirism! Is terrible disease! He will drink our blood forever!” Dr. Che stammered, furry knees knocking.

Evan said, “Yes, I know, I know! The vampire who turned him isn’t a vampire anymore, so he can’t cure himself that way. Supposedly curing him now is impossible, but I brought him to you because I’ve seen you do the impossible before. You got Mr. Ocean’s fungus under control and brought my crewmen back from the brink of death more times than I can count. Please, tell me there’s something—anything—you can do for Zeffer.”

Dr. Che hesitated for a long time, looking as if he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words. “I am sorry, Captain. So sorry,” he began slowly. “But only fix for his sickness is the death. Brain or heart must be destroyed, and then body burned. Vampires very contagious, you see. One vampire make two vampires, two vampires make four, four make eight. In short time, every fae in village drinks blood! It is bad to live that way. They cannot drink blood and have happiness. This is why it is best for them to meet the death, so that they not suffer forever.”

Evan felt tears burning behind his eyes, threatening to leak out with an explosion of rage. His face flush pink and he struggled to hold his temper as he growled, “I never thought I’d hear such cold words come out of your mouth. You, of all people! You’ve never turned a patient away before! Why start now?”

“There is nothing I can do!” argued Dr. Che.

“How do you know if you won’t even try?” Evan roared back.

The doctor crossed his arms and told him sternly, “Mr. Atlas, I already tell you what he must do. Until he does this, I will not treat your crew again. I am sorry to be cruel, it is not what I want. But I lose entire village to plague once, and then again to fire. I will not lose everything third time.”

“What? You can’t do that! You can’t just refuse us healthcare over this!” exclaimed Evan.

“I can do what I want. Is my village, is my clinic, is my time,” the satyr told him, punctuating himself with a stamp of his hoof. He gestured to Zeffer and finished, “If he will not meet the death, then he must be removed from village. He cannot come back here, never. He must go far, far away. Until he is gone, Freelance Good Guys are not welcome here. This is how it must be, for everyone’s health.”

Evan tried to argue, but his voice fell on deaf ears. Dr. Che ignored him and disappeared back down the stairs. Fuming, Evan turned to Zeffer and said, “Don’t lose hope. This isn’t over yet.”

*

“You don’t talk much, do you?” queried Alaine.

She sat on the edge of Mr. Ocean’s gazebo with a fishing pole in her hands. Lilian sat beside her, having already bathed and clothed herself in one of Alaine’s old dresses. The elfenne glanced back at her and replied, “Mr. Dusk told me I’m not to speak unless spoken to.”

Alaine cocked her head. “Whoever that is, he sounds like a jerk,” she said.

But Lilian insisted, “Oh no, he was very kind! He was my night-father, and um, my husband. There’s no one on Gaia as smart and handsome as he was.”

Intrigued, Alaine asked, “Your night-father? What’s that?”

“It means he’s the one who gave me immortality. He was so generous.”

“So…the one who infected you with vampirism,” clarified Alaine.

Lilian nodded. “That’s right.”

“But you don’t have it anymore. What cured you?”

“Zeffy did,” Lilian answered solemnly. “He said he didn’t want to kill me, even if it would cure him. That’s why he…he killed Mr. Dusk instead.” Her words were strained, as if each one burned her throat.

Alaine slowly nodded, caught off-guard by her answers. This girl had been through it indeed. Her demeanor was meek and child-like. She was soft-spoken in a deliberate kind of way, as If she were afraid to wake someone.

Lilian barely said a word beyond ‘thank you’ and ‘sorry’ since she arrived in the Hollow. Alaine could tell she had a lot of practice using those particular words, but was curious to hear her say more. “You’ve really been through a lot, huh? I’m sorry about your husband,” began Alaine. “I can’t imagine how that must feel. I never married, myself. There’s a guy I really like, but he’s…kind of a mess. We still go fishing together almost every day though. Do you like to fish?”

“I’ve never done it before,” admitted Lilian.

The mermaid’s eyes seemed to brighten. “Really? Never? Here, give it a try.” She stood up and reeled in her lure, then offered the pole to Lilian. “Just draw your arms back and cast like this, as far as you can,” she said, demonstrating a casting motion. “The best fish are in the middle of the lake.”

Lilian copied her demonstration and flung the lure. It plopped in the water not far from the dock. “I’m sorry! That wasn’t very good,” she apologized, flashing a timid, fearful look at Alaine.

Alaine said, “It’ll do! Now we just drink beer, get high, and shoot the breeze until we catch something.”

The gazebo was littered with all manner of strange items. Alaine sat down again and reached for a long, glass pipe with a bulbous end. She packed some kind of plant material into the pipe and lit one end with a match. “Dreamleaf used to be hard to come by,” she said. “But it’s been growing all over the place since we had that fire! Ashes and sunshine did it some good, I guess.”

Lilian watched as she inhaled the smoke from the other hand and coughed it back up. “Your turn,” said Alaine, offering the pipe.

“Oh, um, Mr. Dusk said I’m not allowed,” Lilian declined.

Alaine was about to respond when she saw the end of the pole twitch. “Hey! You got a bite!” she exclaimed. She clumsily dropped the pipe and wrapped her arms around the elfenne, holding her steady as the fish fought against her.

Lilian dug her heels into the old boards and shrieked, “Ms. Fontaine, it’s too strong!”

“Damn, this one’s a pole-snapper! Pull harder, it’s coming in!” grunted Alaine, seizing the top end of the pole. She yanked with all her might as Lilian reeled and reeled, and seconds later, a giant heap of tentacles breeched the surface.

Lilian dropped the pole with a scream. She scrambled across the dock until her back hit the gazebo’s rope walls, staring in horror at the lake monster crawling onto the dock. Alaine didn’t seem the least bit afraid. She only seemed irritated when she groaned, “Uuugh, Ocean! Not again!”

Mr. Ocean kneeled on the dock, gesturing with his hands as he blabbered at her. A hook was pierced through his bottom lip, and it was hard to speak with a metal lure weighing it down. “Damn it. Hold still,” sighed Alaine, crouching to dislodge it. As she did, she called back to Lilian, “It’s okay, Lilian! He won’t hurt you! This is Mr. Ocean, he was at the meeting earlier.”

Still quivering with fear, Lilian forced herself to her feet and offered a polite bow. “Um, h-hello there, Mr. Ocean. M-my name’s Lilian,” she greeted. “I’m s-so sorry I screamed, that was very rude! Please forgive me! I’ll never do it again!”

The cecaelia’s mouth was still occupied as Alaine fumbled with the hook, so she replied for him, “Don’t beat yourself up over it. He has that effect on people.”

“Will he be okay?” asked Lilian, creeping closer.

At last, Alaine dislodged the hook. Mr. Ocean rubbed at his bloody lip and answered, “This is nothing, it will mend very soon. I’m sorry for frightening you too, Ms. Lilian.”

“You’ve _got_ to stop eating my lures,” grumbled Alaine.

“I am not eating them on purpose,” Mr. Ocean said, hunching sheepishly. “I have fungus in my eyes, you know. I remembered that I needed food, and I thought you’d be proud if I fed myself. No such luck, it seems.”

Alaine spotted Evan in the distance. He was walking along the lake’s shore, heading right towards them. “Oh, great. There’s Atty, probably coming to yell at us some more,” Alaine groaned. She nudged Mr. Ocean towards the water. “I’ll handle this. Just hang out by your house, I’ll bring you lunch in a bit.”

The cecaelia slinked back into the lake. Shortly after, Evan made it to the end of the dock and greeted, “Good afternoon, Ms. Fontaine! Doing some fishing, are we? Catch anything good?” His tone was bright and friendly, a far cry from his anger that morning. It was artificial, Alaine could tell. He was about to ask her for something.

“Just tell me what you want,” she snapped impatiently. Evan’s smile faded to something more sincere, eyes pleading above as he dropped to one knee.

He clasped his hands together and begged, “Alaine, I have a favor to ask of you, and I will do _anything_ in return. Anything, anything you want, I will do whatever it takes to make it happen!”

“What is it?” Alaine asked, tone flat, for she already had a feeling she knew the answer.

Evan continued, “Can you donate a few pints of blood to Zeffer? Just to carry him through an extra day or two? I came to you because you’re the most righteous-hearted person on this crew. Please. I’m looking for a way to cure him, I just need to buy some time.”

“Look,” Alaine sighed, “I can already tell where this is going. If I give a donation today, you’re going to ask for another one tomorrow. You’re going to keep telling me ‘just one more, just one more!’ and the day I say ‘no more’, you’re going to blow up on me and make me feel bad. I know how you are. Besides, I need to stay in good shape so I can take contracts. I can’t be slugging around from blood loss all the time.”

Evan squeezed her hand between his own. He told her, “I swear on my life, if you do this for me just this one time, I won’t ask you again! I’ll find another way. Zef and I used to run into this problem back in the old days and we always got through it, one way or another. Please, just—”

“Did you hear me at all? I said ‘no’!” said Alaine, jerking her hand away from him. She sounded more distraught with every word as she went on, “God damn it, Evan! You know how much I love you, and how dare you try to take advantage of it! I let people take advantage of me for ten years. Ten years! I’m not going to let it happen for one more day! I know Zeffer is a good guy, and you obviously love him too. But I can’t let his problems become my problems. I’m sorry, but you two need to come up with something and leave the rest of us out of it. The crew and I already told you how we feel. If you can’t respect that, then you don’t respect us.”

Evan opened his mouth to argue. He soon realized he had no argument to make. She’d swiftly and thoroughly put him in his place, so he closed his mouth and let out a displeased grunt instead. He tapped his finger against his nose, pausing to think. His eyes drifted over to Lilian. She was sitting in the gazebo, staring down at the water.

Alaine must have seen the shift of his gaze, for she seized his jaw and turned his face back towards her. She leaned in close and hissed, “Don’t even think about it.”

“No, no, I-I wasn’t,” he mumbled with a little wave of his hands.

He tried to pull away, but Alaine gripped his jaw harder and growled in his ear, “That girl has been through enough. You better not ask her for _shit_.”

Only then did she release his face, keeping a sharp glare trained on him as he stood up. “Understood,” he said, already turning to leave. “I’ll get going then. Please, come find me if you change your mind.”

*


	2. The Temple of Death

**[CHAPTER 2: THE TEMPLE OF DEATH]**

Evan spent all day and night ransacking his extensive book collection for information. He started with books about vampirism, of which he had plenty. Those books led him down a trail of books about alchemy, to books about magic, to books about divinity.

After hours of research, he had come to the conclusion that if anyone could cure Zeffer’s vampirism, it was a divine. Only they could possibly move enough magic necessary to do such a thing, so he began poking through a fat tome about all of the known divines on Gaia.

He traced his finger down the index, reading off each divine’s name and the magical specialties they were known for. There was Cerno, Divine of the Hunt and Father of Lycanthropy. Evan was already quite familiar with that one. Feztavi, Divine of Revels. Allmother, Divine of Maternity. Green Witch, Divine of the Forest. Salina and Marina, Divines of the Sea, who Glenvar and Alaine had the pleasure of meeting in person…

But would any of them know how to cure vampirism? Evan turned the page and read on. Karenza, Divine of Love. Morganya, Divine of Tears. He cringed when he read Morganya’s name, remembering what his crew had done to her. Devajaya, Divine of Sport. Krozlaug, Divine of Industry. Reaper, Divine of Death.

Evan’s finger stopped beside Reaper’s name. He was one of the most famous divines in the world. Even the most rural peoples had at least some knowledge of what he did, for he sent his messengers all over Gaia. Supposedly, if someone had enough money, they could pay their way into their chosen afterlife using his services. There were so-called “temples” in his name all over the globe, where the poor tried to win his favor with the sweat of their brow in lieu of gold.

Evan turned to his section in the book. He had to know more. If Reaper was a master of death, then surely he knew a thing or two about undeath as well? Vampires were locked in a strange limbo between alive and dead. They were not technically alive, not in a physical sense, yet they walked and talked all the same.

Skimming the text, Evan read, “… _Reaper, also known by his mortal name, Grim, was born in the Seelie Court…worked as a court necromancer…betrayal to the queen…became a travelling priest…today resides at his temple in Mogdir Capital City…powers specializing in matters of necromancy, exorcism, and clericalism…known for soul-reaping, dispelling spirits, bringing the dead back to life_ …”

The last four words jumped out at Evan like a panther. He needn’t read more. He slammed the book shut and scrambled to the window, drawing back the curtains. He shielded his eyes from the burst of sunlight that flooded in. He hadn’t expected that at all. Had he really been up all night long with these books?

No matter. He decided he was going to take a long flight, and he could sleep on the way.

*

Shadow soared over the sea to reach Evik, a small continent east of Noalen. Isaac piloted her from her saddle, while Evan and Zeffer rode in her gazebo with several jars of blood. Evan wasn’t proud of what he did to get that blood. It went against his own sense of morality and the Freelance Good Guys’ code of ethics.

But his love for Zeffer was stronger than his love for rules, so he hunted down some wanted thieves in Woodborne and drained several pints of their blood before turning him in to authorities. It was something he couldn’t afford to make a habit of, lest he destroy the shining reputation his crew had worked so hard to build for themselves. Somehow, some way, they needed to earn Reaper’s blessing before they left.

Simply getting into Mogdir Kingdom was a pain. In this fae-dominated land, vampires were executed on sight, similar to the way lycanthropes were treated in Evangeline Kingdom to the west. Evan asked Ginger to forge a fake passport for Zeffer, and then Zeffer had to hold his magical guise as they passed through the dragonport.

As much as they worried for Zeffer, it was Evan and Isaac who were met with extra scrutiny. Commoners were scarce in this kingdom, and tensions were high with its commoner-dominated neighbor, Zareen Empire. The trio stabled Shadow and stopped at a large, stone gate for one last security check.

Zeffer received a half-hearted patdown before he was sent through, but Evan and Isaac were frisked for ten times as long. The elven security guards turned their every pocket inside-out as they questioned them. Each officer was glad in a crisp, purple uniform with pill-shaped hats on their heads. They were armed with wands and copper swords sheathed at their belts.

“Where are you from?” asked one guard.

“We just came from Woodborne, Noalen. We’ve already shown our passports three times,” said Evan.

“Let’s see them again,” demanded the guard, and the two mercenaries sighed as they handed them over.

As the guard checked their information, another guard patted Isaac down and asked, “Have you any affiliation with Zareen Empire?”

“No, sir,” answered Isaac.

“Do you have any friends, relatives, or associates in that territory?”

Isaac wasn’t sure how to answer. Alaine had once lived in the Zareenite city of Driza, and Jeimos in Viersen. He looked to Evan for guidance, who offered a subtle shake of his head. Isaac answered, “No, sir.”

“Are you carrying any weapons?”

Isaac’s voice cracked when he lied, so Evan lied for him, “No, sir.”

“So, what’s this thing? Looks pretty dangerous to me. Pretty expensive too,” said one guard, turning Isaac’s scythe over in his hands. He pulled off his glove and touched its golden blade. It didn’t burn his fingers, confirming that it wasn’t iron.

“That’s just a farm tool,” Evan explained. “It’s much better at killing grass than people. I suppose it _could_ hurt someone, the same way a pen or a pair of scissors could. We have no real weapons on us.”

The second guard began patting down Evan’s thighs. He groped something through the thick, hide fabric of his pants and said, “You sure about that, mate? Lying to an officer is a serious offense here in Mogdir Kingdom…”

Evan nodded. “I’m aware.”

“Then what’s this you got stashed in here, huh? Some kind of cudgel? Your lies can’t fool me, ironblood!” snapped the guard, squeezing a hard bulge he’d found near the captain’s inner thigh.

Evan cleared his throat and told him, “That would be my penis, sir.”

The guard flung his hand back like something bit him. His fellow security officers broke into laughter as he ripped the passports from one of their hands, tossing them back to the mercenaries. They were swiftly sent through after that, joining Zeffer outside the gate.

No iron was permitted within Mogdir’s borders. Even the two iron buttons on the pockets of Isaac’s vest had been confiscated before they left the dragonport. This was only for the benefit of the kingdom’s fae populace, and as the mercenaries rode a centaur-drawn carriage through the capital city, they quickly understood why. There was hardly another commoner to be seen. The faces they passed were overwhelmingly fae with a decent population of gaians just behind them.

This, they knew, was the “Kingdom of Magic”. Evan didn’t come here often, and he tried not to dispatch his commoner crewmen here either. What looked like a forest of colossal trees was actually a city. The canopy stretched high, branches braiding into one another to form bridges to living structures of wood and leaves. Some structures were suspended from the treetops by braided wood, like giant cocoons made of thatch.

The canopy seemed to stretch on forever, casting the whole city in dark shade. The odd strand of afternoon light penetrated through here and there, but mostly the streets were illuminated by candleroot. These plants were common in the Forest of Refuge too, but not at such enormous sizes. Some of their glowing orb-like fruits could fit a horse inside of them. Every surface seemed to sparkle with bioluminescent fungus. Though sunshine was scarce, there was no scarcity of light.

The trio arrived at an inn, or at least at the base of it. The carriage stopped in front of a hollow tree repurposed into a building. Amoeba-shaped windows dotted its length from top to bottom, with a door build into the crook of its mighty roots. The mercenaries walked through the door, paid the clerk, then made their way up a spiraling staircase until they reached their inn room.

Here, they could finally unload their contraband. Evan reached into his pants and pulled out the iron cudgel the officer had been groping at earlier. Meanwhile, Zeffer unpacked his “jam jars” full of blood and began picking out the strawberry slices he added to make them look more convincing.

“Reaper’s temple isn’t far from here,” mentioned Evan. “You should probably lay low, Zef. Isaac and I will speak with him. Even if he can’t help us, he can surely refer us to someone who can.”

“You realize I’ll never be able to repay you, right?” mumbled Zeffer.

Evan shrugged. “Good thing I don’t expect you to,” he said, patting his friend on the shoulder as he headed back to the door.

His fingers never touched the doorknob, for he suddenly stopped and clutched his chest instead. Evan doubled over and let out a wheeze, planting his opposite hand on the wall to stabilize himself. Zeffer cried out with concern and rushed to his side. “Evan! What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” he asked, frantically looking the man up and down.

The captain opened his mouth to reply, but all that came out was another wheeze. He was red in the face when he shook his head, sliding down to one knee. Sweat was beading on his brow. His body was trembling as he tried to catch his breath.

“He’s been having these fits for a while. He thinks it’s stress,” explained Isaac, sounding doubtful. He passed his canteen to Evan. The man took it in his shaking hands, water dribbling to the floor as he took a long drink.

Wiping his mouth with the ball of his hand, Evan passed the canteen back and wheezed, “Just a p-panic attack. I-I’m fine. I’m fine.”

Zeffer wasn’t convinced. “ _Amro_ , you’re red as a beet! You need to see a doctor, now!”

“No, no,” Evan insisted, forcing himself back to his feet. He wobbled a little, dragging his hands down his face to wipe the sweat away. He took a deep breath. The strength in his voice was starting to return as he continued, “It’s already passing, see? It only happens when I let stress get the better of me. I’ve been worrying myself inside-out since you arrived, so it’s no surprise it’s happening now. Uh, excuse me for a moment.”

He clumsily ducked his head into the bathroom—really just a closet—and Isaac and Zeffer cringed when they heard vomit splatter into the chamber pot. “Evan!” Zeffer cried out in a scolding sort of tone, though he knew there was nothing he could say to bring his stubborn friend to his senses.

Evan staggered back into the sitting room. His back hit the wall and he panted, “I’m fine! This happens all the time!”

“Uh, Captain, this one seems really bad. Like, worse than usual. Maybe you _should_ see a doctor,” suggested Isaac.

Evan stubbornly refused yet again, “Che already looked into it months ago. Just said I had a ‘weak heart’ and prescribed retirement, but we all know that’s not an option. I’ve had a bad heart my whole life, this is nothing new. It’s an Atlas thing. Mama’s got it, Papa had it, and it took Grandmama in her sleep. It’ll take me one day too, but today is not that day.” He nudged Isaac. “Let’s get going. Zeffer, keep that cudgel within reach just in case. We’ll be back by tonight.”

Zeffer watched the two mercenaries leave, feeling hollow inside. To think he had caused his beloved friend so much anxiety just pulled him closer to the grave. If a cure couldn’t be found and Evan refused to kill him, he would have to convince someone else to do it. Lukas would probably do the honors, he thought. Anyone else in the village except Evan would gladly put him down.

A coppery stench wafted past his nose. Zeffer followed it to the bathroom-closet and pulled the curtain back, taking a curious peek inside. The pot was full of blood.

*

Evan and Isaac took a carriage ride out of the city proper. They travelled down a long, rural road that sloped upward, and then it began to wind up a rocky mountain. The trees thinned out as the elevation grew higher. Before they knew it, the mercenaries were standing on its peak, staring into the mouth of Reaper’s temple. The temple was carved from the natural black stone of the mountain, shaped into a giant skull with a gaping jaw.

The skull was so ancient that native plant life had burrowed straight through its surface and blanketed it with patches of greenery. The temple stood out from the landscape and yet it seemed to belong, like bones on the forest floor. Looking up, Evan and Isaac saw skeletal figures flying through the sky on feathery wings. They were surely Reaper’s messengers, and they entered the temple through its hollow eyes.

Without wings, everyone else was forced to enter through the skull’s open mouth. The mercenaries were among them, passing through an open door into a dimly-lit corridor. It was strangely quiet, despite all the people crowding the place. Everyone was speaking in hushed whispers as if they feared waking someone. Perhaps the dead, they thought.

At the end of the corridor was another door. This one was closed, and standing before it was a frightening figure. One of Reaper’s messengers, a so-called “angel”, guarded the path to the inner sanctum. The monster was hardly more than a humanoid skeleton with a thin layer of flesh on its bones. Its teeth were exposed in a perpetual grin, eyes as hollow and black as the void of space. It was clad in armor of leather and bone plates with a long, magical staff in its hand. Four feathery wings were folded against its back.

The mercenaries didn’t know how powerful this creature was and they didn’t intend to find out. They treaded carefully as they approached it, and Evan greeted, “Uh, hello there. My name is Evan and this is my associate, Isaac. We’ve come all the way from Noalen for Reaper’s guidance. Please, may we speak with him?”

“What exactly do you seek from my master?” the angel rasped back.

Evan and Isaac shared a glance. Evan replied reluctantly, “Well, we…we have a friend back home who’s sick with vampirism. I read that Reaper can bring the dead back to life, but what about the undead? He can cure vampirism, can’t he?”

“Yes, Master can do this,” said the angel. The two perked up with excitement until it extended its free hand and continued, “The ritual will be one hundred thousand gold pieces. Master requires at least fifty thousand up front. Only then may you consult him.”

“What?” the mercenaries blurted in unison.

“A hundred thousand GP?” hissed Evan, fighting to mind his volume in this quiet place. “That’s highway robbery! Isn’t there some way to lower the cost?”

“No,” the angel told him flatly. “You will pay or you will leave. Master has no patience for swindlers.”

“Wait,” began Isaac, “we’re mercenaries, you know, and we’re really good at what we do! Maybe we can run some jobs for Mr. Reaper in exchange for the ritual?” He stared hopefully at the towering angel, but yet again he was refused.

“You will pay or you will leave,” the monster repeated.

Evan brought a hand to his weary face, scrubbing at his eyes with a groan. They stood there for a moment in silence, then he nudged Isaac and led him out of the temple. They sat on the stone steps outside, where they contemplated their dilemma.

“There must be a way to get in…there must be, I _know_ there is…” muttered Evan. Isaac rested his elbows on his knees, staring out at the forest around them. He listened to a chorus of afternoon birdsong, and then he got an idea.

He shot to his feet with a gasp. “I got it! I’ll be back in a while!” he exclaimed, and then he took off running down the steps. Evan watched him sprint off the road and disappear into the shadows of the forest. He only shook his head and sighed. There was no telling what to expect from that boy.

Evan waited for what felt like too long. He checked his pocket watch and saw that over a half-hour passed, and still Isaac hadn’t returned. Just as he stood up to go look for him, he saw a flock of black birds flutter out from the forest. They were Arcadian ravens, similar to those in the Blue Valley but thrice as large. From talon to beak, they were as tall as Evan’s arm was long.

They flocked around the temple in a flapping, cawing swarm. They flew this way and that in a frenzy, divebombing angel guards and pilgrims alike. Evan shielded himself with his cape. He peeked out and watched the panic erupt around him. The crowd began to scream and scatter from the crazed flock, and before long, angels poured from the temple to control the situation. They batted at the ravens with their staffs, casted illusions of great snakes to scare them off, but the birds would not relent.

“Damn it, boy…what did you do?” muttered Evan. His eyes scanned the chaos for Isaac, but all he saw were more birds joining the frenzy. Twittering sparrows and colorful grosbeaks began harassing everyone in sight. Evan felt them pelting his cape and pecking at his boots, but he refused to panic. The birds weren’t harming anyone, they were only making a scene, and he knew his crewman must have had something to do with it. Isaac always had a strange way with animals.

The swarm of birds was growing rapidly as more flocked out from all directions. Their numbers must have been in the hundreds, and Reaper’s angels had completely lost control of the situation. There was no protocol for something like this, after all. Why would the native wildlife suddenly go crazy and attack the temple?

It was getting hard to see through the chaos, but Evan managed to spot a great, black mass flying towards the temple. It was a flock of Arcadian ravens, and they were carrying a full-grown man through the sky! Evan couldn’t believe his eyes as he watched the ravens and his crewman disappear through the temple’s left eye. The angels were so busy with the madness outside, none of them noticed the security breach.

Evan’s heart was beginning to flop again. He supposed all he could do was hunker down and trust that Isaac knew what he was doing.

*

Isaac spread his arms and let his body go limp. Hundreds of little talons clutched his sleeves and armor, and then he felt his feet lift off the ground. He asked the flock of ravens to carry him into the temple, and they agreed to it in exchange for the sack of gummy candies in his pocket.

Once he was in the air, Isaac was at the mercy of the flock. He sped through the eye of the skull at high speed, shrieking as their talons loosened all at once. He hit the floor and rolled to a stop. The corridor was filled with cawing ravens flying all around, demanding the attention of the guards. They swarmed the angels as Isaac rushed further down the corridor unnoticed.

He passed by an arch-shaped window and stopped. Pressing his nose against the glass, Isaac peered through its stained surface and saw a great chamber beyond. A figure in a dark cloak was standing on some kind of pedestal, speaking to another figure below. The grand ceilings stretched high, the walls lined with ornate statues. This was Reaper’s chamber, Isaac was sure of it.

He saw a pair of heavy double-doors nearby. Carved in its wooden surface was a mural, where skeletons were dancing in some kind of cosmic, star-filled environment. Isaac pulled on the handles, but the door wouldn’t budge. Locked.

He heard a shuffling sound to his right and turned, saw the shadows of angels rushing up the stairwell. His window of opportunity was closing. Thinking quickly, Isaac pulled the scythe off his back and jammed its blade between the doors. He sliced it downward, severing the lock, then kicked them open and hurried through.

Now he was standing at the end of the grand chamber. The figure in the black cloak stood at the opposite end atop the pedestal, and behind him was a great, black throne carved with images of death. A cape of raven feathers was draped over his shoulders, most of his face obscured in bold shadow. The figure flinched when the doors flew open. The elfenne he’d been speaking to ran away with a scream, disappearing through another door to the right.

“Mr. Reaper!” called Isaac. He lowered his scythe, but did not holster it as he approached the divine. “Where do you get off charging fifty thousand GP just to talk to you? There’s so many people out there who need your help, but only the rich deserve your time, huh? Come on, man!”

Reaper was flanked by two armored angels. They jumped in front of him and brandished their staffs at Isaac, but the mercenary refused to back down. He turned his scythe around and touched its crescent blade to the floor, showing he meant no harm as he continued, “Look, I’m sorry for barging in. I swear, I didn’t come here to cause trouble. My name is Isaac, and I really, really need your help. I don’t have a lot of money, but I—”

“Isaac? Did ye say yer name is Isaac?” Reaper interrupted. He stepped forward, shoving his angels aside. He pointed, giving them a silent command to stand down. The guards obeyed, lowered their weapons and kneeled.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry, have we already met before? My memory’s not so good,” Isaac admitted, scrubbing at his sweaty neck. His anxiety only burned hotter when Reaper descended the steps of his platform. The divine drew back his hood, exposing a pale, elven face. His brows and head were shaved bald, and his face was tattooed to resemble a skull. The man was certainly committed to his aesthetic. Isaac would have been impressed if he weren’t so intimidated. Maybe this was a bad idea after all.

Reaper didn’t answer him right away. He slowly circled Isaac, examining him as if he were some kind of alien creature. “I can’t believe ye’ve survived this long,” he said. He shook his head with a grin, letting out the ghost of a chuckle. “Yer a bold one, marching into my temple like this. Ye really are yer mother’s child, but I suppose that’s to be expected…”

“My mother? You know her? W-what about her—who is she?” blurted Isaac, frantically stumbling over his words. A hundred questions were trying to escape his mouth at once. Reaper’s eyes rounded.

The divine brought a hand to his mouth and muttered, “Ah. Forget it. I’ve said too much already. How funny that fate brought ye to me, but I’m afraid I must turn ye away. It’s forbidden for us to speak.”

Isaac furrowed his brows. “What do you mean ‘forbidden’? Reaper, if you know something about my mom, you have to tell me! I’ve been searching for her my whole life—or at least, what I can remember of it…”

“It is forbidden,” repeated Reaper. The lines in his face deepened in an apologetic kind of frown. Isaac could tell he _wanted_ to say more, but like the minervae, he seemed to be wrapped up in some kind of conspiracy to keep Isaac’s past from him. How could that be possible? How could this conspiracy stretch across three different continents? Was all of Gaia part of this monstrous thing?

Isaac picked his blade up off the floor, raising it to his hip. Reaper jumped and took a few paces back, raising his palms in surrender. His hands, too, were tattooed like bones. Isaac was fighting the urge to threaten him with it as he begged, “Please, please, please, don’t do this to me! I know you’re in on this thing with Karenza and the minervae and who-knows-who-else! You all know who I am and where I came from, but none of you will tell me! Why? Just tell me why, at least! Just give me that! You can’t torture me like this! I-I don’t even know if I’m _human_ , for Gaia’s sake!”

Reaper was reluctant to approach him, wary of the scythe. Still, he swallowed his fear and cautiously stepped towards Isaac, planting his hands on his shoulders. He took a deep breath and let it out slow, pondering his words. He said, “Ye were far too young to remember, but we have met once before. Yer mother sought my help with a very… _unorthodox_ matter. I vowed to never speak of it again. I shouldn’t even be speaking to ye now! I’m sorry I cannot tell ye more. Yer dear to me, child, but we must never see eachother again. If ye want to make your mother proud, ye’ll walk out of this temple and stop looking fer her. Some things are best left in the shadows.”

Tears were starting to burn behind Isaac’s eyes. His fists trembled, stomach twisting. It wasn’t fair. This couldn’t be happening to him—not again! Reaper backed away from him and gave another silent command to his guards. The two angels took Isaac by the arms and began dragging him towards the door.

Isaac fought against them and shouted, “Wait, wait! I didn’t even come here for this! My friend has vampirism and I’m trying to cure him! That’s all! Please, can you at least help me with _that_?”

“Guards, stop,” Reaper commanded. The angels stopped in their tracks and loosened their grips on Isaac. “Now this, I can talk about. Tell me more,” he added.

Isaac took a deep breath and explained, “So, my friend’s a vampire. The lady who turned him got cured, so he’s kind of stuck that way. We heard you can bring the dead back to life, so we thought maybe you could…I dunno, give his mortality back somehow? The guard at the door said it would cost a hundred thousand GP, which we definitely don’t have. But we’ll do whatever it takes to make it happen. Whatever you want, consider it done. We’re mercenaries, we do it all.”

Reaper rubbed at his chin, staring hard at the floor as he thought it over. Then he curled his finger at one of the guards, who promptly came to him and listened as the divine whispered something in his ear. The guard disappeared through a doorway.

Reaper said to Isaac, “Curing vampirism is tricky business. It’s nothing like raising the dead. The vampire’s soul is still in-tact, ye see, but their life essence is long gone. I can’t restore yer friend’s life essence, but I have something that can…”

The guard returned just then, holding a leather sheath. Reaper took the sheath and pulled some kind of strange dagger out. It had a black wooden handle carved with intricate skeletons. Its blade was blood-red and slightly transparent like glass.

Reaper showed the dagger to Isaac and explained, “This is the _Edge of Second Chances_. It can steal the life from one person and transfer it to another. All ye have to do is stab both parties through the heart.” He slid the blade back in its sheath. “Of course, I’m not suggesting that ye go out and murder someone. All I’m saying is, this thing needs a strong, healthy sacrifice to work properly, and once it’s done its job, it will disappear back into the arcane matrix. All life is sacred. Remember that.”

With that, he offered the enchanted blade to Isaac. Isaac glanced up at him, then holstered his scythe and took it carefully, as if it were made of wet paper. “Woah,” he gasped. “Did you make this?”

Reaper shook his head. “No, I’m sorry to say I had nothing to do with it. This artifact was forged by a cecaelian witch over a thousand years ago and gifted to Queen Morgause. It, er… _may_ have stuck to my fingers when I left the Unseelie Court…” He closed Isaac’s fingers around it. “But I want ye to have it. Forget about the fee. All I ask is that ye use it wisely, and once you walk out of this temple, ye must never seek me out again fer any reason. Next time, I won’t let ye leave this place alive.”

“Never?” queried Isaac, cocking his head. “But—”

Reaper interrupted, tilting his chin towards the scythe on the mercenary’s back. “Ye’ve got a nasty curse on yer back, child, and I don’t need that kind of trouble here. Ye must have noticed by now that wherever ye go, evil follows…”

“Mankind’s Disgrace!” exclaimed Isaac. “You know him too?”

“Shh! Don’t even speak his name!” the divine hissed. “I don’t know how ye got that thing, and frankly, I don’t _want_ to know. But now that ye’ve touched it, it’s yer burden fer life. Don’t bring yer curses here, and don’t bring them to yer mother. Do ye hear what I’m saying, Isaac? Evil. Follows. Ye.” He spoke slowly, stressing each word.

Isaac’s blood ran cold. Reaper was right. Disgrace would never stop haunting him until one of them lie dead. Even if Isaac surrendered the scythe to him willingly, the fact that he ever touched it in the first place marked him for death in the eyes of such an angry, vengeful divine.

There was nothing more to be discussed. Isaac heard him, loud and clear. He backed away with a nod, fastening the sheath to his belt. “Thank you, Reaper. I’ll never forget this,” he said quietly, and then he made a peaceful exit through the great double-doors.

*

It was after midnight in Drifter’s Hollow. Everything had gone quiet hours ago as the village lied down to sleep. So too had Evan, snoring softly in his bedroll on the floor. Zeffer lie awake beside him. His red eyes burned through the darkness as he examined the Edge of Second Chances, turning it around and around in his hands.

Two days passed since they returned from Evik, and he still needed to find a sacrifice for the blade. He was not willing to kill an innocent, but Evan assured him that they were forced to kill lowlifes in their line of work often. An opportunity would present itself in due time, he said. But Zeffer didn’t _have_ time. His blood supply was quickly running out, and no one in the village was willing to donate. He’d been starving himself as it was, just to stretch his reserve a little further.

This wasn’t sustainable. There was no guarantee that the blade would work either. A centuries-old artifact from an unknown source, never once tested? Zeffer had his doubts. He tucked it back in its sheath, then carefully disentangled himself from Evan. The moon’s power was coursing through his veins. He couldn’t fall asleep at night if he tried, so he decided to take a walk and clear his troubled head.

Zeffer threw on some clothes and tucked the dagger in his back pocket. It was too valuable to leave his sight. Walking around unarmed was never a good plan, especially at night, so he grabbed his thorny whip as well before he left the house.

He moved down the main road through the compound, lost deep in his thoughts. Evan was always the optimistic one, but Zeffer struggled to see the bright side of anything anymore. Not since the life was sucked out of him a quarter-century ago. He braced himself whenever things were looking up, for he knew they would just come crashing down again.

What if the dagger didn’t work? Zeffer could hear Evan’s voice in the back of his head, challenging his pessimism with another question:

_What if it does work?_

Zeffer spent the last twenty-five years constantly preparing for the worst. He had backup plans for his backup plans. But what if things _did_ go right for once? What if he did get his mortality back? He hadn’t even bothered planning for that, and so he had no idea what he’d do.

Perhaps he’d stay in Drifter’s Hollow. The villagers would have no reason to fear him, so maybe he could make some friends and finally plant his roots somewhere. He could even get back together with Evan, assuming the man would have him, and they could grow old together like nature intended.

But to have a life like that, some unlucky person would have to give up theirs.

“What are you doing outside at this hour?” called a familiar voice. Zeffer whirled around, scanning the area behind him until he spotted Lukas, perched atop a fallen tree. The mercenary already had his bow drawn and trained on Zeffer’s head.

“I could ask the same of you,” Zeffer snapped back.

“Answer the question,” demanded Lukas.

Zeffer sighed, “I’m a vampire! We’re kind of nocturnal, if you haven’t heard. What’s it to you?”

“What’s it to me? I’m the watchman. It’s my job to keep an eye on things,” said Lukas, jumping down from his perch. “And I’m a little concerned when I see vampires prowling my streets in the dead of night.”

Zeffer rolled his eyes. “I’m not out here hunting people, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“That is what I’m thinking,” said Lukas. “So if you’re not hunting, then you have no business out here. Go home.”

“Can’t a man take a stroll without being harassed?”

“A man? Sure. But we both know you’re no man, creature,” hissed Lukas, jabbing him in the chest for good measure.

Before Zeffer could argue, a third voice joined the conversation. “Excuse me! Sorry to bother you at this hour, but we need a little help. We’re trying to find someone,” it said.

Zeffer and Lukas glanced at eachother, then back at the man. There were two of them, in fact. Two burly humans dressed head to toe in leather armor. One of them was holding a small box, wrapped in brown paper.

Zeffer tipped his head to the men and muttered to Lukas, “You know these guys?”

Lukas looked them up and down. “I don’t think so,” he determined, then addressed them when he asked, “State your business in the Hollow and then we’ll talk.”

“We’re just couriers, sir,” said the second man, holding the package. “We were hired to deliver this to an elfann named Zeffer Vengelor. This fellow here matches his description.” He nodded at Zeffer.

Zeffer eyed him warily. Something definitely didn’t feel right about this. “Who’s it from?” he asked.

“Don’t know, sir. All we know is we ain’t supposed to leave ‘til he signs for it, so are you the guy we’re looking for or not?”

Lukas answered for him, “Yeah, that’s him. Zeffer Vengelor, right there.”

Zeffer shot him a glare of loathing. “Really?” he hissed.

Lukas shrugged and said, “Come on, I want to see what you got. Something embarrassing, I hope.”

One of the men offered a slip of paper and a pen to Zeffer. They were standing on a barren, isolated stretch of road somewhere between the compound and the village, staring down two armored strangers, both of whom weighed more than Zeffer and Lukas combined. Zeffer didn’t like this situation one bit.

Zeffer realized he’d have to let go of his whip to sign for the package. He decided against it entirely, telling them, “Forget it. Whatever it is, I don’t want it.”

“Woah, woah, you sure?” blurted the second man, giving the package a shake. “This thing’s pretty heavy! Might be something valuable, you know!”

“Keep it,” said Zeffer, already backing away. He refused to turn his back to them. The men’s expressions, their body language, changed in an instant. The whole situation soured and fell apart in a matter of seconds, and now there was no going back. It was clear they were all on to eachother when the men dropped the package and drew their swords, Zeffer uncoiling his whip.

No further words were exchanged. Only violence as the men rushed Zeffer with their swords. He swiftly dodged their swings and lashed his whip. Its end curled around one of their blades and he yanked it right out of the man’s grip. The sword clattered on the other side of the road, then Zeffer lashed again. The whip’s thorny tail struck the other man across the face with such force, it left a gash in the side of his leather helm.

The man staggered back, the other running to retrieve his sword. Zeffer stopped the second man in his tracks, wrapping his whip around his leg. The stranger tripped, crying out as the thorns ripped through his pants and his flesh beneath. Zeffer dashed forth and swiped his sword, brandishing it at the first man, who took a swing with his own. Blades clashed and sparked in the darkness.

Zeffer’s vampirism made him stronger than a typical elf, but he was still no match for this behemoth of a human. The man knocked the sword from Zeffer’s hand with one mighty swing, then drove the bottom of his boot into his chest. The vampire rolled backwards and clumsily sprang back to his feet.

“Help me!” he cried towards Lukas, standing behind the man. Lukas didn’t even have a weapon drawn, made no move to assist him, and in that moment Zeffer realized he was part of this whole attack. The betrayal twisted his stomach, but there was no time to dwell on it as his assailant charged him again. Swift as a panther, Zeffer dodged him and jumped to the side, whirled around and whipped the man across the face.

The thorns opened a long, bloody gash from his forehead to his chin, taking his left eye out as it did. The man dropped to his knees with a howl. Zeffer seized the opportunity to finish him then. He stole his sword and slashed his throat, kicking him to the ground. But as he did, he failed to notice the other man with the injured leg nocking an arrow in his bow. He aimed his shot at Zeffer and fired. The arrow whizzed by, just barely grazing his pointed ear, and instead struck Lukas standing behind him.

Zeffer gasped and ducked down, using the first man’s corpse as a shield. He glanced behind him and saw Lukas drop to his knees, clawing desperately at the arrow lodged in his bloody neck. He pulled it out, but it was too late. He was losing too much blood far too fast, and then his back hit the road. He gurgled and writhed and gasped for air as the second attacker nocked another arrow with quivering hands.

He never got a chance to fire it, for Zeffer knocked the bow from his hands with a lash of his whip. He bolted towards the man and kicked the weapon out of his reach. The stranger’s leg was still shredded. He panted heavily, tears and mucus streaming down his face as he scooted away on his behind. “Please,” he groveled, “don’t kill me! Have mercy! I-I’m just doing my job, fellow!”

Zeffer dropped his whip and seized him by the throat. “Who sent you?” he hissed.

The man rasped back, “I don’t know! Honest, I don’t! Someone put an anonymous hit in you, paid through the mail and everything! Y-you win, okay? I forfeit the contract! I won’t trouble you no more, I promise! Just please, let me go!”

The vampire stared him down. Then he turned back to Lukas, lying just behind him. He’d gone still and silent. If he wasn’t already dead, he surely would be within minutes. Zeffer pressed his teeth together, feeling his own fangs piercing into his bottom lip. His trembling fingers closed tighter around the man’s throat.

He unsheathed the Edge of Second Chances from his hip. Its strange, red blade seemed to glow in the darkness. He raised it high, hesitating for a long moment. Black tears welled in his eyes. This wasn’t fair, he thought. Fate was laughing at him yet again! Did the gods think him some kind of plaything?

Zeffer stabbed the stranger through the heart. The man let out a pained howl and shoved him away, but it was too late. He crawled only a short distance away before he collapsed and died, all while Zeffer approached Lukas with the enchanted dagger. Its formerly red blade was now pulsing with a bright, white glow. Kneeling beside Lukas, he then drove it into the commander’s chest.

Lukas’ eyes snapped open, rich and brown and full of life. He gasped, lungs filling with air once more. Zeffer felt the dagger crumble to dust right in his hand, and with it, his chance to be mortal again. The wound in Lukas’ chest closed itself, and so too did the hole in his neck, leaving nothing but bloodstains behind on his clothes.

Lukas propped himself on his elbows, looking around in a panic. He touched the wound on his neck, but all he felt was smooth flesh. He saw two dead assassins lying before him and a vampire hovering over him. Only one thing could have happened here…

“Zeffer, did you…?” he began, interrupting himself when he coughed up a mouthful of blood.

“Yeah, I did. But don’t think I did it for your sake,” answered Zeffer, furrowing his brow. “I did this for Evan, understand? I can tell he cares a lot for you, and you better thank your lucky stars for that. If he didn’t, I would have pissed on your corpse and let you rot, you piece of shit!”

Despite his anger, he forced himself to extend a helping hand. Lukas hesitated, then accepted it and allowed Zeffer to pull him to his feet. Lukas told him quickly, breathlessly, “I-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I…I thought that—”

“You hired these thugs to kill me, didn’t you?” snapped Zeffer, gesturing to the bodies.

Lukas sighed, dragging his bloody palms down his face, and told him, “No, I—well, yes, but I’m not the only one responsible! The whole village is terrified of you, you know that? A bunch of them got together and pitched in for this. It wasn’t even my idea! I just submitted the contract, that’s it!”

“Oh, like that makes it any better!”

“Come on! You’ve been begging us to kill you since the moment you got here!” argued Lukas. “I’m not like Evan, okay? I’m a cold, hard, realist. Things weren’t going to get better for you. Taking you out is an act of mercy, I think we can both agree on that.”

“Fuck you! I literally had the cure in the palm of my hand! You _knew_ that, and you tried to kill me anyway!” Zeffer shouted his throat raw, displaying his empty, quaking hands. He’d never felt such anger in all his life. He could have strangled Lukas right then and there, but what a waste that would be after what he’d just done to save him.

Lukas pressed his lips together, gaze falling to the ground. Suddenly he had nothing to say. But after a pause to piece everything together, Zeffer did. He pointed directly at Lukas and began, “You know what? I don’t think you have a problem with my disease at all. I think you have a problem with _me_!”

Lukas suddenly picked his gaze up. “What?” he barked.

Zeffer went on, “That’s right! You’ve treated me like dirt since the moment we met, all the way back in Aldfog! I tried to be nice, I tried to keep the peace for Evan’s sake, because it was obvious how he felt about you.” He narrowed his eyes, irises briefly flashing red through his guise. “But you just couldn’t shrug that chip off your shoulder, could you? My vampirism is no threat to you and you know it. So what’s your _real_ problem with me, Lukas? Huh?”

He took a step towards the commander, grip tightening on the handle of his stolen sword. He couldn’t trust himself not to use it, so he forced himself to toss it into the bushes. Lukas held his ground, but averted his gaze again. He couldn’t meet Zeffer’s eyes when he replied, “Okay. You’re right. I’ve never liked you and I know I’ve treated you like trash. But my reasons are none of your business, and it’s not like they matter now anyway. You just _saved my life_ , Zef. Not only that, but you sacrificed your mortality to do it. Again! Even after the way I treated you!”

Lukas shook his head, forcing himself to look at the vampire, and continued, “I take back what I said earlier. You _are_ a man. A much bigger one than me, that’s for sure. However I felt about you before, forget it. I don’t feel that way now. Not after this.”

He paused, rubbing at his sore neck. He looked as if he wanted to speak, but the words were trapped behind a reluctant tongue. Zeffer crossed his arms and waited. Finally, Lukas let out a hard sigh and muttered, “Evan…Evan deserves you. You’re a damn good guy after all, and I’m sorry for ever doubting you. Gods, I’ve been a fool! I’m so sorry. Whatever that’s worth to you, I really am.”

Zeffer stared him down in silence. Lukas’ expression was contorted with emotion, eyes sparkling with tears. Zeffer could feel the burning heat of guilt and shame radiating off of him, and he knew the apology was sincere.

He extended his hand once more. “It’s worth more than you know,” he said. This time, Lukas didn’t hesitate, and the two shared a firm handshake to seal their truce. So, thought Zeffer, it had been a matter of jealousy all along. Lukas obviously didn’t want to admit it outright, but Zeffer could read between his lines well enough to see it. He had suspected as much from the beginning. Lukas’ apology lifted a weight off the vampire’s shoulders he hadn’t even realized he’d been carrying.

He couldn’t blame Lukas for loving Evan, and he certainly couldn’t fault him for trying to protect him. The very first time they spoke, the commander chided him for abandoning Evan and breaking his heart. His bad deeds had preceded him. He understood that what Lukas had done tonight wasn’t necessarily out of some personal hatred for him, but out of love and concern for Evan. Zeffer had a strange respect for that, for deep down, he knew he would have done the same.

“I want to make this up to you,” said Lukas. “I don’t know that I can, but…I’d like to try. At least now we know there’s more than one way to cure you. That’s good enough for me, and it’ll be good enough for the rest of the village if I have anything to say about it. You’ll get your mortality back one day, Zeffer. We’ll make sure of it.”

Zeffer smirked. “So, Evan was right?” he asked.

“He has his moments,” muttered Lukas. “Follow me. I think we need to pay the doctor a little visit.”

The two left the corpses behind and made their way to the clinic. It was well after midnight, yet Dr. Che was still awake and caffeinated, tending a sick patient on the floor. Lukas poked his head in the door and called, “Dr. Che! Get out here, now!”

The satyr quirked an eyebrow at him, then quickly finished up and stepped outside. The moment his hooves passed the threshold, Lukas seized him by the front of his coat and slammed his back against the doorway. The doctor cried out in surprise, shielding his face as Lukas leaned in and told him, “Guess what? Your goons failed, and thank the gods they did! Zeffer isn’t the monster we thought he was. The man just sacrificed his mortality to spare mine, so from now on, we’re going to treat him with the respect he deserves.”

Dr. Che fumbled with his glasses, all askew on his face. “M-Mr. Fanaka, he is still vampire! Still very contagious, still—” He wheezed when Lukas slammed him against the doorframe again.

The commander hissed through his teeth, “He’s one of us now, like it or not. I better not hear another word of slander against this guy! You’re going to carry on and treat my crew as usual, including Mr. Vengelor here. Because in case you forgot, you still owe me.”

“What you talk about? What I owe?” Dr. Che exclaimed, exasperated.

“Back in Woodborne,” Lukas reminded him, “that crazy troll would’ve smeared you like a dog turd under his boot if I didn’t step in. I already had a foot in the grave that day! I didn’t have to risk my life like that, you know! So you owe me, and I’ve come to collect. First, I want you to apologize to Mr. Vengelor. Go on.”

He released Dr. Che’s coat, turning him towards the vampire. The satyr’s jaw fell slack in disbelief, looking between the two. There was no getting out of this. He was a healer, not a fighter, and if something happened to him, what terrible fate would befall his poor patients in the clinic?

Dr. Che removed his glasses, grumbling something in his native tongue as he scrubbed his fingers against his eyes. Finally, he put them back on and addressed Zeffer when he apologized, “I am sorry for treating you badly, Mr. Vengelor. You must understand, I lose entire village to disease. Everyone I love, entire family, all my friends get sick and meet the death! I cannot let this happen again.”

“I understand,” said Zeffer. “It won’t happen again, doctor. At least, not because of me. There’s another cure out there waiting for me, and I’m not going to quit until I find it. Whatever we arrange here, it won’t be forever.”

“Which brings me to my next request,” began Lukas, rolling up his sleeve. He presented his bare arm to Dr. Che and continued, “I want you to draw a few pints of my blood for him. We’re going to hold village blood drives once a week, and we’re going to tell folks we’re selling it to the Woodborne hospital for revenue. Understand?”

Dr. Che cocked his head, furry ears falling flat. “But…that is lie. I cannot sell to them, they not trust me,” he said.

Lukas leaned in close again. He replied slowly, “A little lie won’t hurt anyone. Unless it does.” He raised his fist to the satyr’s chin, shaking it menacingly.

Dr. Che raised his palms in defeat. “Er, y-yes, I see. I will post notice tomorrow! Freelance Good Guys are welcome at my clinic again. Him too,” he said, nodding at Zeffer.

Lukas smiled. “Good,” he said, then walked into the clinic and sat in a chair. “Now let’s get the first donation started.”

*

Two weeks passed by since Zeffer and Lilian arrived in Drifter’s Hollow. As far as the villagers knew, Zeffer was cured. According to Lukas, he had used to the Edge of Second Chances to defend himself from a couple of thugs, and now he was no longer a danger to their village.

Of course, this wasn’t true. He walked among them in his guise and they were none the wiser. Only the Freelance Good Guys knew what he really was. But after the noble sacrifice he made for Lukas, most of the mercenaries had changed their tune. They joined the villagers at the new weekly blood drives Dr. Che was holding at the clinic. There, the doctor bottled their blood, preserved it with herbs, and told them he would sell any excess to the Woodborne hospital. Supposedly, the profits would go towards improving the clinic.

In reality, their blood was nourishing the secret vampire in the Hollow. Evan didn’t like to be dishonest to his people. But his love for Zeffer was too great to let him go, and he reasoned that this charade would not be forever. Once they found that elusive cure, all wrongs would be righted and they could put this shameful chapter behind them.

In the meantime, the village was still racing the Divine of Hate to autumn. They had to be prepared for his next assault, and no one could afford to put life on hold for Zeffer’s sake—not even the Freelance Good Guys. They needed gold, and they needed it fast.

After saving Lukas, Zeffer was accepted into the crew the very next day. Evan already had him running contracts up and down the western coast, and Zeffer proved plenty competent no matter what the captain threw at him. His last quarter-century of hunting vampires proved useful after all. Zeffer feared nothing and no one, not after all the hellish things he’d already faced in his un-life.

He returned from another successful job with a fat sack of gold in his satchel. All he had to do was slay a dragon, and that was child’s play compared to slaying Dario Dusk. He left some of the gold in Evan’s desk drawer and took the rest of it straight to the clinic.

The clinic truly was profiting from these blood drives, just not the way the villagers imagined. Simply taking their blood like a parasite didn’t sit right with Zeffer, so he traded a percentage of his spoils for it instead. Under the cover of night, when the village was at its quietest, Zeffer left his gold in the clinic’s donation box before heading down to the basement.

There he found Dr. Che, up late as usual with a stained coffee cup beside him. A faun patient was lying across his examination table, knocked out cold while the doctor operated on her belly. Lilian and Tojum flanked him with cloth masks tied over their noses and mouths, dressed in matching white coats. They watched the operation closely and handed Dr. Che tools when he requested them.

Zeffer didn’t want to startle them, so he gently cleared his throat to announce himself. “I’m back from Stonebirch. There’s fifty GP in the box,” he said.

Dr. Che never took his eyes off his work as he replied, “Good, good! Nurse Tojum, please give him key.”

Tojum pulled the cord off his neck and handed it to Zeffer. The vampire used the key-pendant to unlock the storage room, then filled his satchel with several jars of blood. He returned the key when he was finished and asked, “How’s Lilian doing?”

“She is excellent nurse,” replied Dr. Che, still intensely focused on the surgery. “She do everything I say, no fighting, no trouble! She take very good care of patients, and she is not scared of blood at all.”

“I imagine not,” mumbled Zeffer.

Tojum added, “Tojum glads to finally get some helps around here! Too many butts to wipes and bloods to mop, but never enough hands!”

Zeffer nodded, stifling a smile. “I think you’re well-suited for this line of work, Lilian. What do you think?” he queried.

Lilian paid him a brief glance and replied, “Oh, um, yes. Helping people is much more fun than killing them.”

Zeffer winced. Dr. Che and Tojum both paused, shooting her a strange look before returning to their work. “That’s…great to hear,” Zeffer said slowly. He turned back to Dr. Che and assured him, “She’s harmless. Really. She’s just…sheltered. Thank you for giving her this opportunity, doctor. It’s good for her to stay occupied.”

Stitching up the incision, Dr. Che replied, “Yes, well, it is good to have her. We will need much help when Disgrace comes. Will be lots of injury, lots of death.”

“Yeah…” the vampire sighed, turning to leave. Evan warned him about the Divine of Hate not long after he arrived. Zeffer knew disaster was looming ahead, but he couldn’t bring himself to fear it. He would stay and join the fight, then maybe he would finally win the hearts of the villagers.

He walked up one stair and stopped, facing Dr. Che again. “Hey, doc,” he began. “Do you think the villagers would still donate if they knew…you know…that it was feeding me?”

Dr. Che stripped off his bloody gloves and set them aside. He finally met his gaze, expression strained when he told him, “It is something we should never tell them.”

**END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like Lilian and Zeffer have found peace, at least for now. Can Zeffer really hide his disease until he finds a cure, or will the villagers catch on to his sketchy arrangement? No one likes being deceived, especially by those they trust. The Freelance Good Guys are playing with fire, if you ask me…
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a kudos if you enjoyed the story and let me know if you noticed any mistakes. I’m always trying to improve my writing, so all feedback is appreciated. New stories are posted about once a month, so check back soon for more!


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